In That Moment
by RoseFleur
Summary: What Santana least expected in that moment, was to be stood on the streets of New York, with coffee in her bra and Sebastian Smythe smirking down at her after so many years. And in every moment after that, the unexpected kept happening. FF. S/S. T/M.
1. A

**A/N: Firstly, I don't own Glee or any of the characters in this story. **

**Phew, got that out the way.**

**I first want to say that I _never _do this, I mean never. Normally I pre-write multichap fics because I don't like the pressure of writing when people are waiting. But I'm just so, so excited about this story that I want you all to be able to read it asap :) **

**I've written a few chaps already, but please don't hate me if I'm slow or don't get around to writing very fast. I'm meant to be doing school work at the same time! **

**However, I hope you like this as much as I do. The idea came to me from one small action and I ran with it. **

**Please review - they mean the world to me :) **

**And most of all, enjoy. **

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><p>Santana Lopez was in a bad mood. In fact, she had been in a perpetually bad mood for the past month but today it seemed to be heightened. It had started about five and a half weeks ago when her girlfriend Brittany had decided that there was no such thing as sexuality and had run off with her dance partner, leaving Santana with an empty flat and a broken heart. She had thought that a few rebounds would fill the aching gap but none of them had satisfied her in the same way as Brittany, and this had only added to her bad mood.<p>

Further to that, she was under a lot of pressure at work. Running a successful PR company in New York City was no easy feat – her clients were constantly calling her for advice and demanding her attention. But, she had paved her way, and even despite all the pressure, she was happy in her job. Yes, it was demanding, but someone had once told her there was no point in doing anything if it wasn't worth the effort. And she had certainly put in enough effort over the years. Unlike Brittany, she thought cruelly and viciously, who had literally danced out of college straight onto the stage.

Thinking about Brittany only made her angrier; add that to the fact that she was late for an important meeting and her coffee was late, Santana was at the point of killing someone. Finally, she was handed her latte, barked a 'thank you' and stormed out onto the streets of New York.

Suddenly her phone rang and she knew it would be a client, or her assistant complaining that she was late. She cursed under her breath and opened her handbag with the same hand as she held it, diving her head inside it. She attempted to multi-task walking, holding her coffee and rooting for her ringing phone.

"_Joder, ¿donde, donde, donde_?" She cursed angrily in rapid Spanish. She always seemed to divert to her native tongue when she was particularly emotional, even if she didn't realise it.

Without warning, she collided with someone, spilling coffee all down her cream blouse.

"¡_Pinche idiota!_" She roared, pulling her head out her bag. "Can't you look where you're going?"

She glanced up at the _pendejo _who had got in her way and her stomach nearly dropped out of her body.

"Hello to you too, Santana." Sebastian Smythe was smirking down at her.

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He was just the same as she remembered. His bronze hair was still perfectly quaffed, as though he had had it cemented in place since he had exited the womb, his dark green eyes still flashed daringly as she caught them. And he was still insatiably self-confident, and every bit as attractive as he had been in high school.

The last time she had seen him had been their Regional competition of Senior Year, shortly after Dave's attempted suicide. Sebastian had been there, cheering as she sang her way through the Kelly Clarkson number with the Troubletones. Mr Shue had been right when he said that some songs would be harder to remember than others, but that one had always stuck out to her. Maybe it was because of the way it empowered her as she thought of Dave on stage; maybe it was the way Sebastian had held her gaze and seemed to smile only for her.

Not a month before, everything had changed between them. It was just meant to be another showdown, Santana v. Everyone Else. She was meant to go to Dalton, take out their lead with her vicious tongue and winning vocals and then leave. She did not expect in a million years to end up kissing him.

The song had finished, they were staring each other out and then, without warning, he was crashing his mouth onto hers, dragging her head up to meet his lips, ravishing her mouth with his tongue. She had been primarily taken aback, but at the same time, intrigued and excited. He had made her feel exhilarated and dangerous and alive, in comparison to the 'sweet lady kisses' she got from her girlfriend.

She had left Dalton Academy feeling confused, her lips still tingling in his memory. She tried to focus on the road, but his voice was pounding in her ears, 'Annie, are you okay?' repeating over and over. His smirking face swam before her and for the first time she found herself seeing a playful grin rather than a conceited sneer. Her phone lit up.

_Let's do it again sometime. S x_

She had tried to push him out of her brain, but he was always there and there he was, watching her perform with such pride and joy in his eyes. But once Regionals was over, before she even had a chance to commiserate his loss with sincerity, she had been swept up into the Finchel wedding and he had slipped out of McKinley and was never seen again.

She'd heard rumours over the years: that he'd been kicked out of Dalton Academy for sleeping with all the Warblers and causing a public brawl, that he'd gone to L.A in search of fame and fortune or that he was in jail for masturbating in public. But the place she least expected to see him was in New York City, on a crowded street, smirking down at her as coffee dripped through chiffon blouse.

"Aren't you going to say hello back?"

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><p><strong>Hope you like! RR!**

**As for the Spanish, in case you weren't sure: **

**Joder - fuck**

**Donde - where**

**Pinche idiota - fuckin' idiot**

**Pendejo - jackass**

**Aside from all my Spanish profanity, hope this is something you enjoyed and would like to continue to read. Let me know: **


	2. B

**A/N: I do not own Glee.**

**The awkward moment where the A/N is longer than the story - sorry about that. Think of Chapter 1 (A) as more of a prologue. Hope you liked, please continue to read and review! **

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><p>"H-hi." Santana managed to stammer out eventually.<p>

Sebastian smirked down at her and ran a hand through his thick, wavy hair. His big, silver watch glinted in the sunlight and as he brought his arm down he glanced at its metallic face.

"Well, as delightful as this oh-so short reunion has been – I've particularly enjoyed rendering Santana Lopez mute, I'm sure there aren't many who can say that – I'm late for court. Maybe we can catch up some other time though, I'd love to find out what you've been up to these last few years and I'm pretty positive you feel the same about me."

He was just as conceited as ever, this Santana knew, but at the same time it was nice to see a familiar face that _wasn't _Brittany and she was curious to know where he'd been. She nodded dumbly; still awestruck that she was in this situation. Sebastian reached into the pocket of his pinstripe three-piece suit and drew out a Sharpie pen. He unhooked the lid with his teeth and held it there as he took the half-empty (half full? Santana wasn't quite sure whether she was feeling optimistic enough or not in this situation) coffee cup from her hand. He hastily scrawled a number on the cardboard cup and signed his name underneath.

"As if you'd really forget it was me though right?" He grinned and winked down at her. "Wow, what a blast from the past. Santana Lopez." He mused to himself, shook his suit out and made to leave. "See you around Santana."

He had gone not ten paces when she came to her senses. He may be Sebastian Smythe – the once Dalton Warbler who had turned her stomach to jelly in a way she thought no man ever could again – but as far as she was concerned right now he was still the _pendejo _who had spilt coffee all down her cream blouse.

"Smythe!" She called, spinning on her tall, nude Louboutin heels to face him.

"Yes?" he turned round and gazed back at her innocently.

"What are you going to do about my blouse?" She stalked towards him, her heels clicking on the pavement as she went.

"Well, I could take it off here and now sweetheart, but I don't want to share with the rest of New York City." He drawled in a blasé manner.

She contemplated slapping him but didn't want to draw attention to herself or her stained blouse – and if she was being honest she found his casual flirting the slightest bit attractive, particularly the nonchalant way he'd called her 'sweetheart'. Instead, she drew herself up to her full height and crossed her arms.

"Hilarious," she said, equally nonchalantly and bluntly, "You've got two options here – you can buy me a new blouse right now or you can buy me one later. Or, you can get me something else to wear and send this one for dry cleaning, stat."

"Ooh, so many choices," Sebastian smirked sarcastically. "Where am I going to get you a new shirt at this time? And when I'm late."

"It's a blouse." Santana pointed out angrily, pressing one of her sharp, manicured nails into his chest "And I don't care if you're late, so am I, because of you and your inability to look where you're going when you walk."

"Oh San, stop being such a nit-picker."

"I am not a nit-picker."

"You are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Look," she argued, furious now that he had pushed her to the point of having an immature domestic in the middle of the street, "You need to do something about my blouse! I've got an important meeting!"

Sebastian stopped, thinking for a moment. Then, he put his briefcase on the floor by his feet and shrugged off his suit jacket.

"Could you hold this for a moment?" He asked Santana, holding the jacket out to her.

"What are you doing?" Santana questioned cynically and confusedly taking the jacket.

She watched as he unbuttoned his waistcoat and handed it over to her, taking his suit jacket back.

Santana eyed him in perplexity, wondering why he had given her the waistcoat.

"Look," Sebastian pointed out, "put the waistcoat over your blouse. It'll cover the stain right up and it'll look like a fashion statement."

Somewhat half-heartedly, she followed his instructions, realising that he was right and it did indeed cover the stain.

"Thanks," She muttered, watching Sebastian put his jacket back on. "I've got to go, I'm late for an important meeting." She turned around, ready to leave when she heard him pipe up behind her.

"What are you doing these days San?"

"Oh," She said, looking over her shoulder. "I've got my own PR Company. Lopez on Mulberry." She smiled with pride for her hard work.

"Mulberry?" Sebastian asked, his eyes narrowing. "That's just near me."

"Where are you?"

"Lafayette. Family courts."

"Family?" She had recalled him mentioning court earlier in the conversation but had assumed Sebastian would be in crime rather than family.

"Yeah," he confirmed, shrugging, "Y'know, everything with my own was so messed up, I figured I could help some kids out the way I needed someone to look out for me."

Santana smiled. She didn't actually know anything about Sebastian's childhood or his parents but she reckoned it was a nice sentiment all the same.

"Anyway," he pressed on, "You've got your meeting, and I'm late. So I guess I'll see you."

"I guess so," Santana sighed, "Thanks again for the waistcoat." She inclined her head to him, nodding graciously.

"No problem. It was good to run into you. Literally." He laughed slightly. "See you."

And before she knew it, he had disappeared into the sea of people.

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><p><strong>But this is not the end! Review for more... ;) <strong>


	3. C

**A/N: I own neither Glee, nor Sebastian and Santana. I do however own a couple of characters in this story who will begin to make their way into the tale. **

**Hope you enjoy, here's chapter 3 (C). Please review, it means the world to me. Truly. **

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><p>Santana pushed open the glass door into Lopez on Mulberry and marched through.<p>

"Ms Lopez, Ms Lopez!" called her assistant, Lucy, rushing out from behind her desk waving some sheets of paper. "The clients are in the conference room, waiting for you. Did you know you were half an hour late? What are you wearing?"

She reeled off her list of questions, walking with Santana as she strode towards the conference room.

"Lucy, Lucy. Stop. Calm down. Yes, I'm aware I'm late, yes, I'm aware I'm wearing a waistcoat. The two are related but this is not a story for now, this is a story for later when my million dollar clients aren't waiting for me. Okay? Good. Go and sit at your desk and calm down."

Lucy scurried back to her desk obeying her boss' orders. Santana breathed heavily, giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts and regain her breath before she pushed open the heavy glass door into the conference room.

"Hi there," She flashed a winning smile at the clients sat at the table, waiting patiently with empty water glasses and a half empty jug. She brushed her skirt down and coughed slightly. "Sorry I'm a little late, I was tied up on a call to…" She pulled a city out of her brain, "Paris."

Maybe it was her interaction with Sebastian earlier that caused her to revert to the French city – she'd known that before he went to Dalton he lived in France. The clients – a new actor on the block and his manager – passed an eye over her wardrobe. She laughed airily:

"Do you like it? It's the new fashion in Paris these days. Shall we get down to business?"

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One two-hour long meeting later, where Santana had been on her feet displaying charts and images to the actor, she finally waved them out the building with a smile. She sighed deeply and made her way back into her office. She collapsed into her big, leather chair and checked the clock. It was half past twelve. She had arranged the meeting to end at twelve so that she would have time for a long, leisurely lunch and a trip to the gym. Now her whole schedule was pushed back half an hour.

"Lucy!" She barked, refusing to relinquish her position from her seat.

The small brunette tottered in, "Yes Ms Lopez?"

"Were there any messages for me?"

"No Ms Lopez."

Santana felt her heart dip slightly as she realised that Sebastian hadn't made any attempt to contact her. Then again, _she _was the one who had his number, not the other way around. And if she thought about it, he was probably just as busy as she was. She lightened up a little.

"Great, so this is what I need you to do for me please: can you go and get me a salad for lunch; I don't have time to go out properly?"

"Sure, yep, I can do that for you. Any preference?"

"No… erm, actually, nothing with fish – I'm just not in that mood."

Lucy nodded and left the office. Santana sighed and sank deeper into her chair. She rubbed her tired eyes and yawned slightly. It had been a hectic day and it was only lunchtime. She stood up and went to the cupboard in her office where she kept her gym kit. She changed quickly, drawing the blinds of her office before she did so and stepped onto her treadmill. She'd had it installed shortly after extending her office: she liked to walk or run whilst she was thinking about a project or an idea and it helped her maintain her trim figure at the same time.

Today it seemed all she could think about was Sebastian Smythe. How had he ended up in New York? Where had he been all these years? And was it some sort of fate that they had run into each other today, when she was so down about Brittany and in such a foul mood? Her increasingly bad mood appeared to have lifted, even though she knew she was overly tired and still pushing herself further.

She ran for another half an hour, at which point Lucy returned with her lunch. She continued to run as she ate it before washing quickly in her sink which she used to brush her teeth normally, clean herself up if she was dirty or reapply make up in the overhead mirror. Then she slipped back into her coffee stained blouse and pulled Sebastian's waistcoat over it.

She wondered, as she buttoned it up, whether Sebastian was still the same confident boy she had known in high-school. Was he still gay? She asked herself, was she? That one kiss they had shared was undoubtedly the best kiss she had ever had, even better than any she had shared with Brittany. Even in the many years they had been together, Brittany had never been able to excite her in the same way that one kiss with Sebastian had.

She checked the clock. Two o'clock. Lunch was over.

She sighed, sinking back into her desk chair and opening her laptop. She had three hours to work on pitches for the next week and press releases she was planning to send out. It was hard work running her company, but she wouldn't have it any other way. She tapped at her computer for three solid hours until her eyes began to glass over and she yawned, imagining having a hot bath and going to bed at an early hour.

Was this really what her life had come to? Going home to an empty apartment and having a ready meal for one on a Friday night? And being okay with that?

At five o'clock as she was packing her laptop into her desk and locking it away she heard a knock at her door.

"Ms Lopez?" It was Lucy. "This package just arrived for you."

She handed the parcel over to her boss and left the room. Santana sat back down in her leather seat and turned the bundle over in her hands wondering what it could be. It did not look like the usual 'gifts' she received of piles of documents and paperwork. It was a squishy and thick package. When she could resist no longer, she tore the parcel open. Wrapped up in tissue paper she found the most gorgeous chiffon silk blouse, far nicer than the stained one she currently wore – and that was even before Sebastian's coffee attack. She inhaled sharply almost unable to comprehend what he had sent her. It was sincerely the most beautiful garment she had ever seen.

Attached to it was a simple note in Sebastian's looping scrawl: _Hope this is okay. It was good to see you today – catch up over dinner? Call me, S x_

Santana smirked to herself and pushed back her chair. She crossed to the bin and rooted in it for her discarded coffee cup. She punched Sebastian's number into her phone and waited with baited breath.

"This is Sebastian Smythe." He answered sharply.

"Hello Sebastian Smythe, this is Santana Lopez." She replied mockingly.

"Well hello Miss Lopez," he continued, his tone relaxing, "with what can I help you?"

"I believe you wanted to invite me to dinner tonight?" She grinned teasingly.

"I'll pick you up at 8, dress sharp." Sebastian instructed as she reeled off her address.

"See you tonight, Smythe."

"See you then, Lopez."

And with that, the line dropped.

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><p><strong>Que interesante! Review for more!<strong>


	4. D

**A/N: I don't own Glee or Sebastian/Santana/Any other Glee Characters mentioned. I wish. Get me some Grant Gustin. Like now.**

**Yaay! A long chapter here for you! Hope you enjoy, and as ever - please review. **

**Question: so up to now I've written about 12 chapters, and I think it's a good-ish finishing point but I'm not entirely sure. There's a few more places I could take this story after we're done with those 12, but I want to know what you guys think. Would you be interested in more than 12 chaps?**

**Thanks in advance for reviews & comments and ABOVE ALL: Enjoy. xx**

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><p>Santana left the office, her heart skipping a beat every five steps she took. She couldn't understand why she was so excited for tonight – after all it was only Sebastian Smythe. But it was <em>Sebastian Smythe<em>. He was so much more than 'only' someone from her past or 'only' a boy. He was _the _one from her past, _the _boy. She was intrigued to know where he'd been all this time, what he'd been up to, did he still keep in touch with Blaine, was he still gay, was he ever gay and did he ever think about that kiss the way she did?

Her mind reeling with the same questions she had been considering all day, she found herself on the subway and on her way back to her apartment. She greeted the doorman and took the stairs up to her floor. Ever since she and Brittany had moved to New York, Britt had insisted they always took the stairs rather than the elevator because it was far more toning and less lazy than the mechanical lift. She had found, in actual fact, that Brittany was right: it did help keep her in shape and she had never used the lift since – even after Brittany left.

But her thoughts were not on Brittany now – indeed, for the first time in weeks she was thinking about somebody else and the thought of them consumed her far more than thoughts of her blonde ex. She pushed open the door to her flat with her hip and dropped her bags on the island in the kitchen as she immediately entered. She checked the clock, seeing she had only a couple of hours to get ready and dove into the bathroom.

She plugged her iPod in and stood under the hot water, washing her long dark hair and belting out her music. The good thing about living alone now was that she could sing as loudly as she wanted and play her iPod throughout the flat without anyone criticising her for it. The music filled her apartment, enveloping her in a wall of sound which she danced and sang along to as she got ready.

She opened her wardrobe to find something to wear – she had no idea where Sebastian might take her but thought she could wing it with a dress. Eventually she picked out a twist neck pencil dress in a stretchy bodycon fabric with short cap sleeves and a small slit up the back in a vivid red colour. She put it to one side whilst she applied her make-up and straightened her hair.

Eventually, it was nearly eight o'clock and she slipped the dress on. It was tight around her body, cupping her bottom and dipping at her cleavage. She slid her feet into high black patent heels and matched a black sequinned clutch bag to her outfit. With a final squirt of her sensual, fruity, signature night-out perfume, Santana sank onto her bed and waited for Sebastian to arrive.

She was just inspecting her perfectly manicured nails when there was a hard rap on her wooden door. She stood up excitedly and checked herself once more in the mirror: stunning dress, perfect make-up and poker straight hair, in a neat centre parting. She had to admit it to herself, she looked good.

Then she stopped.

She should probably make Sebastian wait for a bit; she didn't want to seem too eager.

A second hard knock - slightly more desperately, he banged on the door. Santana smiled to herself and counted the seconds.

It was like thunder and lightning: the closer and more impatient Sebastian would be, the closer together the knocks would be – and the louder.

Right before the third knock, she decided he had waited long enough.

She flung the door open and saw that his knuckle was poised, ready for the next sharp knock. It hung in mid-air as he stopped and looked at her. His lips parted and he inhaled slightly. She looked incredible. The best looking girl he'd ever seen, but heaven knew that Sebastian had only ever had eyes for one girl in his lifetime really, and she was the one stood before him.

Santana in turn cast an eye over the boy in front of her. He was dressed smartly but casually, in dark black jeans, a white and blue striped button down with a turned up collar and the sleeves rolled up over the grey, slightly woollen blazer he wore on top. Sebastian managed to have the air of being relaxed and nonchalant whilst at the same time effortlessly smart and sexy. She noticed that his hair was still quaffed just the same as it always was.

She broke the silence between them as each stared at the other, taking in their mutual attraction.

"So, you really like your blazers huh?" She fingered the lapels of the grey one touchingly. "Just found it too hard to let go to that Dalton classic?"

"What can I say?" smirked Sebastian, "It's a statement piece and I wear it well, I always did."

"Good to see you're just as egotistical as ever Seb," Santana laughed, rolling her eyes.

"Would you want me any other way?" He shrugged, grinning and held his arm out. "Come on Lopez, I'm going to take you on the night of your life."

She followed him out into the hallway, taking his arm and said "Where are we actually going?"

"I thought we could have a nice dinner at a great little Italian I know and then for dessert I may have a little surprise in mind…" His eyes sparkled teasingly as they reached the elevator.

"I don't take the elevator." Santana stated, pulling him away from it.

"What, is it haunted?" Sebastian sneered sarcastically.

"No, I just don't take it." She huffed in reply and began to make her way down the steps, leaving him at the top. She was starting to think she might have slight OCD about the elevator thing.

"I always said you were a mysterious girl Santana." He grinned and followed after her, skipping down the few steps between them to reach her.

"What do you mean by a surprise? I don't really like surprises." Santana asked, fluidly moving down the stairs. After all the times she'd climbed them and descended them in skyscraper heels, the feeling of vertigo and fear had ebbed away and it was as easy as if she were in flats.

"What, and spoil the fun? I'm not going to tell you that!" Sebastian chortled and took her arm again, perhaps under the pretence of trying to steady her – not that she needed it – or just because he simply didn't care and wanted to hold her arm.

"You irritate me." Santana grumbled, giving Sebastian a dark stare.

"Oh who doesn't, Sassy-Pants." Sebastian smirked back at her as they reached the bottom of the staircase. "Now, if you'll just follow me, I have a cab waiting outside for us."

"Fancy," drawled Santana rolling her eyes. _Sassy-Pants? _She wondered where that name had come from.

"Oh now, San, don't be like that. Lighten up. Just because I wouldn't tell you where we're going. I don't want to ruin the night by letting you know. I think you'll really like it." He held the glass door open for her and then did the same for her to slide into the taxi.

"_Alejandro's _please." Sebastian said to the driver and he sped away.

"_Alejandro's_?" asked Santana, turning to face Sebastian.

"Yeah, have you heard of it?" He replied, smiling at her.

"Of course I have. But isn't it really, y'know, fancy?" She bit her lip, looking up at Sebastian curiously.

"It's a special place for a special girl. It's not every day you bump into the flame from high school who made you question your path in life."

Santana flushed deeply, thankful for the darkness of night to cover her reddening cheeks. "I'd hardly call it a 'flame'. We had one kiss."

So Sebastian had been as deeply affected by that kiss as she had. That at least was good to know. They were in some way on an equal footing. But what did he mean by his 'path in life'. She wanted so desperately to know where he'd been and what path he'd taken – and what was the path he had intended to take, if she had changed it so?

"Like I said," Sebastian replied, "A special girl." He smiled softly at her and took to gazing out the window.

Santana sighed deeply and twisted her fingers in her lap. She had been on various dates in the last five weeks, since Brittany had left, but she always knew how they would play out: dinner, boring talk, alcohol, sex, dissatisfaction. With Sebastian, she had no idea what would happen tonight. It made her nervous, but at the same time excited, exhilarated and curious.

The taxi drew to a halt outside the rich Italian. Sebastian paid the driver and got out the cab to open Santana's door. He held her palm and helped her to step onto the pavement.

"Ready?"

She nodded and allowed him to whisk her away inside.

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><p><strong>Review pleeease :D x <strong>


	5. E

**A/N: I don't own Glee.**

**I know... you all hate me. I'm SO, SO sorry. I got caught up with school stuff & work & now here we are and I'm a bad person. Can you ever forgive me? I'll do better next time, I promise :) **

**I think you'll really like this chapter & it might tempt you even further to continue reading. As always, let me know what you think. Reviews encourage me & remind me how much you guys like the story, so I can keep updating it.**

**Also, any Starkids out there? Did you see HMB? JEFFBLIM. **

**Anyways, regardless, I have the next chapter here. Please enjoy. And don't hate me too much!**

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><p>"Smythe, for two?" asked Sebastian to the maître d'.<p>

The maître d' cast an eye over Santana and smiled. She was used to this behaviour; she always had been since she had blossomed over puberty: men of all ages raking their eyes over her body as though she was a piece of meat. She was sick of it by now and wanted someone to start looking at her like something beautiful rather than just a hot girl. She knew she was hot, but her insecurities made her doubt her beauty.

Usually she had a sharp comeback of 'Girls only, thanks' but she couldn't seem to summon it tonight. Instead she shifted uncomfortably at Sebastian's side, which he must have noticed for he looked from her to the maître d', leering lasciviously over her curves in the tight red dress.

"Hey, buddy." He said, attracting the maître d's attention back to himself. "That's Smythe for two. Two, me and her. Thank you." He put an arm protectively around Santana and she smiled at him graciously.

The maître d' nodded apologetically and directed them to a table in the corner. Sebastian held her chair out for her and she thanked him as she sat down.

"Thanks for that," she said, "For before."

"No problem," Sebastian smiled, sinking into his seat. "I would've thought a confident girl like you would be able to handle leeches like him?"

"Well," shrugged Santana, "It's not the first time it's happened. I'm just tired of it by now I guess."

"I can understand that." Sebastian replied nodding.

A waiter appeared with a wine list and Sebastian ordered a bottle, the French pronunciation dripping off his tongue like music.

"I think you like this. It's very good this time of year." He said as the waiter reappeared with the requested bottle.

"And you're an expert?" smirked Santana as her glass was filled.

"Santana," answered Sebastian a little patronisingly, "In France they drink wine like water. Of course I'm an expert."

"Is that where you were?" asked Santana, "After you left Dalton, did you go back to Paris?"

Sebastian ignored her question and held his glass up to hers. "Cheers," he murmured, "To old friends."

"Old friends." Santana echoed, wondering why he hadn't answered her. She decided to brush it off though she felt confused.

The waiter reappeared and took their orders leaving the table clear. Santana rested her olive forearms on the white tablecloth.

"So you've got a company then?" asked Sebastian interestedly, "That must've taken a lot of hard work."

Santana sighed heavily and nodded "It did. I had to start small getting a job to learn all the ropes and work up to building my own company. And at the time it was hard, because everything seemed to come so easily to Brittany and I was always working. I think that must've played a part in the break up."

"How long have you been apart?" Sebastian swilled his wine and drained the first glass.

"Just over a month." She smiled sadly.

"That's a really long time you were together San." He grinned happily at her. "What else led to it then? In high school, you always seemed so devoted. Except that one time." His eyes flashed daringly as he topped up both their wine glasses.

"We've always been on and off. We're quite different personalities, I'm quite fiery and she's very passive so we were always clashing. It used to work, _because_ we were so different, but eventually our differences stop being a place of balance and became a point of conflict. She'd leave to calm down, I'd have anger sex with anyone I could find and she'd beg me to stop hurting her when she couldn't see that really she was the one hurting me. Everything was always so easy for Britt, especially since she was in her own world. But I struggled a lot, and she couldn't support me in the way I needed her to. In the end she left me for her dance partner and in return I got an empty apartment and loads of crappy revenge sex."

Their food arrived and Sebastian pondered Santana's small monologue. It'd been hard for her obviously and that really saddened and annoyed him. He had never settled down, not really. The longest relationship he'd had had been just under three months and that had ended when he'd got bored.

He'd just never been able to find someone similar enough to him that they clicked and he felt comfortable with them and at ease. Like each new day was exciting but at the same time familiar. And he'd never been able to get past the idea that something was missing.

He tried to find the words to say to comfort her but since his own relationships had been equally awful, he flippantly replied:

"Well, maybe they don't all have to be crappy," and smirked, taking a bite of his meal.

His eye caught hers and he held her gaze momentarily. There was a brief look of mutual lust in their eyes – she could see his pupils dilating in the same way she was sure hers were. There was that invitation, the unspoken suggestion in the air between them. The tension was palpable and Sebastian felt sure that if it didn't break soon, he would be taking Santana right there and then in the middle of _Alejandro's_, fancy or not. And maybe that would fill the gap.

The waiter reappeared and said in a monotonously bored tone, "Is everything alright for you, sir, madam?"

Immediately the pressure was broken. Santana coughed and ran a hand through her long dark locks.

"Perfect, thank you," She flashed the waiter a dazzling smile and he disappeared. She pressed on with the conversation as though nothing had happened. "So you said you're in Family Law. How did that happen?" She took a bite of her dinner and looked up.

Sebastian was musing over the question, chewing his food. "I'd always wanted to go into law, it was something that had been with me all the way through school. I always thought I'd go into crime because it was exciting and dangerous but then when it came to choosing a specialty my parents were going through their divorce, and seeing the way it tore up my sister and how they didn't really care too much about the effect on her, it made me realise that I wanted to help other kids who needed looking out for."

"I didn't know you had a sister." Santana commented, sipping her wine.

"I didn't. At least when I knew you I didn't. I was an only child until I was eighteen. My mother was pregnant in my Senior Year. I never actually understood how she got pregnant - my dad was never around enough for it. I assume she was an accident, a fleeting night of passion leading to Alice."

"Alice?" Santana smiled – it was a beautiful name, simple but beautiful.

"Mmhmm," Sebastian nodded, chewing his food. "My dad picked it. It's French and Dad's always had an affinity with France. So have I, I guess. He was in France for most of the pregnancy; he has an apartment in Paris, where I spent a lot of my childhood. And in fact…" He trailed off, stopping himself.

Santana caught his eye, waiting for him to go on.

"And in fact, when Lissa was born, it was really only luck he was in the country. They divorced only when she was young, citing irreconcilable differences. In reality, they hated each other and had had enough. They always did hate each other. It really upset Alice. I'll never forgive them for that."

The waiter came to clear their plates away and handed Sebastian the bill. Santana had never known anything about Sebastian, or his past. She liked the way he opened up to her. She doubted he'd ever opened up to anyone on a first date like this.

But could it really be considered a first date – she'd known the boy for years, even if she hadn't seen him in so many, or spoken to him. It was more of a reunion, she considered, and she was glad to reunite.

He helped her out of her chair and led her outside, greeting and thanking the maître d' as he did so. He whistled loudly, hailing a cab.

"So Mr Mysterious, where are you taking me?" Santana grinned up at him.

"Still not ruining the surprise." Sebastian grinned back equally, wrapping his arm around her back and guiding her into the taxi. He stepped out and murmured the location to the driver before crossing to the road-side door and slipping in next to Santana.

"Sebastian Smythe… I never know what's coming next with you." Santana mused, a smile playing on her pouting lips.

"Always the best way, don't you think?" Sebastian replied, as the taxi pulled away.

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><p><strong>Reviews as always are loved. Thanks for reading so far :) <strong>


	6. F

**A/N: I do not own Glee or any references in this story. Only my ideas. **

**Am I late again? Do you hate me? Probably. But not after this. Possibly my favourite chapter thus far. Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, please review & let me know your thoughts!**

**The mystery place is revealed after all this time ;) Chapter 6 (F)**

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><p>They pulled up beside a blaze of illuminations, neon lights reading '<em>Florita's<em>'. Santana read the sign, confusedly narrowing her eyes as she looked at Sebastian who was watching her, smirking.

"Come on," He grabbed her hand and made to pull her inside.

"What is this place?" asked Santana, smiling bemusedly.

"You'll see…" said Sebastian mysteriously and he dragged her into the musky building.

It was dark, with low lighting. There was a raised balcony, elevated to surround the centrepiece. It was decorated in a deep red and gold, with plush leather booths adorning the upper floor and thin, crimson drapes on the walls. There was a bar running across one side of the large room where waist-coated men were doing tricks with cocktails to mild applause.

In the centre of the room, lower down, was the dance floor. It was not music familiar to one of the nightclubs in the centre of Manhattan, but dance music booming out from the DJ facing the bar. On the wooden floor there was a mix of bodies, joined together dancing tightly to the fast, samba rhythm playing out.

"It's a dance club!" Sebastian shouted over the music, "Do you like it?"

Santana nodded and beamed at him.

"Drink?" He asked and she nodded again, motioning that she was going to get a booth near the staircase leading to the dance floor.

Roughly ten minutes later Sebastian reappeared with a Mojito for Santana and a Tom Collins for himself.

"Cheers," He murmured and downed his drink.

Santana sipped hers more delicately through the straw, feeling the alcohol making a buzz in her mind. She settled happily into the leather seat and crossed her legs.

"Will you be okay here in those?" Sebastian laughed, pointing at her skyscraper heels.

"Seb," Santana replied, placing a hand condescendingly on his forearm, "I've been wearing heels since I was eleven. I'm comfier in stilettoes than trainers."

"Alright then," Sebastian confirmed watching her suck attractively at the last of her drink. "We should test that theory then." He took her palm and helped her up, leading her over to the stairs down to the centre.

The DJ turned the music down at that moment and spoke over the indistinct chatter in the room.

"We've got something a bit different for you now ladies and gentlemen. It's a classic - I think you'll know it - but an instrumental version with a Latina twist. Give it a try and see what you make of it. The 2Cellos!"

As the opening bars of the song that was so familiar to both Sebastian and Santana, she looked at him and said,

"Did you do this?"

He shook his head, smiling slightly and said "No, I had no idea. It must be…"

"Fate." Santana murmured, as he wrapped his arm around her and held her body close to his.

Maybe it was fate.

Maybe it was fate that _this _song was playing.

And maybe it was fate that he'd taken her to _this _bar.

And maybe it was fate that she'd met him altogether this morning.

Was it really only a few hours ago? It felt like Sebastian had been with her in New York forever.

Sebastian pulled her body close to his, placing one hand on the small of her back and taking her palm in the other. They moved as one to the music, performing tango steps as though they were simply walking. Santana had known that Sebastian could dance – after all before him, the Warblers were only prone to clicking – but this was on another level. He twisted her in his arms so her back was pressed against his front. He ran a hand up her thigh, clutching the material of her tight red dress in his palm. She arched her back, pushing the curve of her behind into his crotch, leaning her head into his shoulder. He murmured something slightly, a groan of '_baise-moi' _in her ear – more to himself than addressing her in this way.

He spun her back to face him and locked her dark eyes with his striking green ones. He pulled her tightly to him and raised her thigh to his side, brushing it up against his leg. He dipped her and traced her arms with his fingertips, sending shivers through their mutual touching. In the peak of the song – where as his memory recalled, Santana has let her voice loose and it had captured every sensation in his body – he lifted her by her waist and held her above him, for the whole room to see her beauty. He let her down slowly, raising her arms over her head, elongating them and holding them there as they stepped in time to the resonating string music.

He gazed deeply into her eyes, watching her lustfully, pulling her towards him for the end of the song.

"You've been hit by, you've been struck by," He murmured heavily.

"A smooth criminal." Santana finished, the familiar words tripping over her tongue like fire.

She grabbed the lapels of his grey blazer, in the same way as she had all those years ago, and drew him towards her. He ran his hands under her thick, dark hair and held it, clenched between his fingers at the nape of her neck, using it to pull her closer to him. He placed his other hand at her waist, holding the red material in his fist, feeling her smooth hip under it. She ached for more, desperately ravishing his mouth with hers. After several heated minutes they drew apart, her lips red and swollen, his decorated with her dark lipstick.

She breathed heavily, her chest heaving, her beating heart threatening to burst from her ribcage. She could not stop staring at his deep, green eyes, the way they were roaming her face, searching her eyes for an indication of what had just happened and what would happen next. She undressed him with her eyes, wanted to have him with every piece of her body.

"I want to," She sighed thickly, struggling to catch her breath, "I want..." She stammered again. Had the alcohol gone to her head? Was she thinking straight? Was it the nature of the dance they had just encountered? It was Sebastian Smythe after all?

But even so many years ago, he had made her heart race in exactly the same way. And the more she considered it, the better an idea it seemed.

Sebastian looked at her for confirmation, nodding as she strained to breathe.

"Let's go." He murmured, wrapping an arm around her back and directing her up the steps and out the building.

She squirmed in his arms, he was touching her at the small of her back and she ached to have him touch her further. She rested her arm on his shoulder, and ran her hand through his thick, bronze hair, tickling the baby hairs at the back of his neck. He groaned desperately.

"Come on! _Merde_!" He cursed in French.

Apparently he spoke French in the same way she did Spanish. Was he really that adept to the European country? It was so attractive as well the way he did it.

"Where the hell are all the taxis?" He muttered, his voice aching with frustration.

"There!" He shouted abruptly, eagerly, raising his arm to catch it. Her back suddenly felt empty without his hand there to warm it, to make the blood pulse through her body.

He opened the door for her – she noted that even alcohol and lust induced, he still upheld his manners – and slid in after her as she recounted her address to the driver.

Sebastian put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her into his body. He murmured into her ear, so closely that she could feel his breath condensing in the shell of her ear, "I'm so glad I saw you today."

She placed her hand on the inside of his thigh and replied, "Me too," nibbling the soft lobe of his ear as she did so.

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><p><strong>Review pleeeeeease! <strong>


	7. G

**A/N: I don't own Glee or either of these sexy beings. **

**Hope this quenches your thirst and satisfies you until next time. Bit cheekier than thus far. **

**As always, please review & let me know your thoughts :)**

**With endless adoration, I give you 7 (G)**

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><p>Santana fumbled with the keys as she attempted to unlock her apartment door. It didn't help that Sebastian was breathing doggedly into her ear and murmuring 'Come on, come on, come on, come on' over and over again. Eventually the door opened and she pushed her way through it, followed by Sebastian, his hands on her waist directing her into the flat.<p>

He kicked the door shut behind him with his foot and spun her to face him. There was a moment of silence where they simply stared at each other, savouring the tension left between them. Then, slowly, softly, Sebastian placed a finger under Santana's chin and tilted it up so her lips met his. He kissed her tenderly, running his hands down her body to her waist. Deepening the kiss, he lifted her into the air and she wrapped her legs around his hips, kicking her heels off as she did so. She pulled her long, dark hair to one side and he began to kiss her neck where the hair had just left.

"Bedroom?" murmured Sebastian into her bare skin.

"Down the hall, second door on the left," Santana groaned in reply, arching her back, pressing herself into his body.

He carried her dexterously into the room and dropped her lightly on the bed, pulling his grey blazer off and throwing it over a chair.

"What?" asked Santana, in a teasing, sarcastic tone, "You can perform without the blazer? I thought that's where all the magic came from!" She grinned cheekily and bit her lip.

"You're making jokes at a time like this?" Sebastian asked, his breath ragged.

But she saw he was smiling and replied "Always," winking audaciously and running her tongue over her top lip, before returning to chew her bottom.

"Can you stop doing that?" Sebastian begged, pleadingly.

"What this?" asked Santana innocently twisting her hair around her finger and biting her lip again.

Sebastian growled roughly and joined her on the bed, unzipping her dress and ripping it from her body, discarding it somewhere on the floor. He took a moment to appreciate her long tanned legs, her thin, toned body and her simple matching red lace underwear. He was so distracted that he failed to notice her unbuttoning his shirt and her light fingers dancing across his bare chest. She shrugged the shirt off him and kissed him on his shoulder, his ribcage, his stomach.

She stopped at the top of his jeans and her fingers played with his belt buckle. She hesitated just momentarily as she considered what she was about to do and who she would be doing it with.

The first thought that crossed her mind was that he was a boy that actually set her heart racing rather than the meaningless flings she'd been used to in the last few weeks. Then she recalled exactly who _this_ boy was.

Sebastian locked eyes with her and gave her a teasing grin, inviting her in coaxingly. He covered her small hands with his and helped her to undo his trousers, discarding them on the floor near her dress.

He pulled her towards him and murmured her name into her body. As his heated lips burned her skin, every other thought was forgotten.

Santana arched her back and a short word escaped her lips.

"_¡Joder!,_" She moaned, cursing in her native tongue. Only that morning she'd used the very same word in disgust, now she said it in pleasure and delight as Sebastian covered her body with his and muttered the same word in English.

"Fuck…"

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She woke up the next morning in an unfamiliar situation. She felt at peace for the first time in a long time – even before Brittany had left. Even more strangely, a pair of thickset, toned arms enclosed her, so different to the people she normally slept with who either curled up at the other end of the bed or left before she'd even fallen asleep the night before. She yawned feeling satisfied and wriggled slightly. Her mouth was really dry and she was pretty sure she needed a shower.

She and Sebastian had had a messy night last night, getting hotter and sweatier as they approached the early hours, eventually passing out. Santana made to slide out of the bed, attempting to unravel herself from Sebastian's strong arms.

"Where are you going?" He mumbled sleepily, trying to hold her back in his grip.

She smiled and patted him softly, "I need a shower, you can stay here."

He snored heavily and rolled onto his back, rubbing his eyes subconsciously. His perfectly quaffed hair had fallen over his forehead and he looked peaceful and beautiful in his half slumber. Santana smiled once more and left the room.

Once she was under the hot shower, letting the water drip over her body everything seemed clearer. She couldn't expect anything from Sebastian – she reminded herself that he was Sebastian Smythe, sexual predator and one-night stand enthusiast. And that used to be her, until the Ice Queen inside her had been melted. Sure, she was still sexually amazing and she was positive she had rocked his world last night. But part of her wanted something more these days. She was older, more mature and she had thought that Brittany would be her happy ending.

She wasn't sure if Sebastian would be adult enough to accept something like that. But, she asked herself, why was she even considering it? She and Sebastian had spent one night together. That hardly sounded like it was relationship territory. And yet, he was Sebastian. He was so much more than just another one-night stand. He had changed everything for her in that one moment so many years ago. She swallowed sadly, letting her shampoo sink in and washing it out. She needed to wash Sebastian out in the same way and stop holding onto the past and their history and the way he continued to make her feel all these years later.

A noise brought her back to the present. Sebastian had entered the bathroom and was getting into the shower with her.

"What're you doing?" asked Santana over the tattoo of the water hitting the ceramic tiles.

"I need a shower too." He was smirking his playful grin and he pulled her wet body towards him.

"Oh," A small gasp escaped her parted lips.

He ran a hand through her dark, wet locks and kissed every part of her body that he could. And considering she was naked, it was _every _part of her body. Santana returned the favour, caressing his tanned, toned body with her teasing fingertips. She traced the patterns the water droplets were making over his chest, down to his stomach and raised an eyebrow as he perked up.

"Morning," she murmured sultrily.

Sebastian groaned heartily as she took him in her hands and stroked him casually. It was different to what he was used to, light, delicate fingers rather than callused heavy hands. But he liked it. And all the while he knew that he had never stopped thinking about the way these hands had grazed his body all that time ago, and the way he was desperate to have her touch him again. Daily and nightly, he wanted her around him. She was effervescent and beautiful, she was dangerous and sexy, she was confident and sweet.

She was, to all intents and purposes, him in female form.

He bucked his hips and lifted her to wrap her legs around his waist and stared her deeply in the eyes, rocking her to a melodic rhythm of the pair of them in harmony.

At last.

When they were suitably satisfied, he lowered her and reached for the body wash.

"May I?" He offered, holding it up to her.

He lathered her in sweet smelling soap, embracing her beautiful frame as he did so. In turn, she washed the sweat and dirt from his bronze hair, playing with his wavy tendrils. Eventually when their skin became wrinkled and the water was beginning to cool off, they stepped out of the shower.

Getting dressed, Santana stole glances at Sebastian's tanned, toned body as he buttoned up his shirt. Somehow today, just wearing it unbuttoned to his chest with his jeans, he managed to make a smart outfit from last night into a casual one for today. Santana threw some clothes on and finally when they could procrastinate no longer, she led him to the apartment door.

"Thanks for last night," She said, smiling gently at him, "I had a really amazing time."

"Me too," Sebastian murmured, catching her dark eyes with his glinting green ones.

She chewed nervously on her bottom lip and he chuckled to himself.

He brushed a wet curl out of her eye, and kissed her softly on her plush lips. He turned to leave.

He hesitated momentarily, and said "See you…"

"Bye, Seb." She called after him.

He had gone five paces and she was about to close the door after him when he turned round.

"San?"

"Yeah?" She opened the door a bit more hopefully.

"Could I maybe see you later?"

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><p><strong>As always review! Be back soon!xx<strong>


	8. H

**A/N: I do not own: Glee, Sebastian or Santana. Or Grant Gustin. Sadly.**

**Firstly, THANK YOU! SOSOSOSO much for all your kind reviews, they have been beautiful & really make me smile, so PLEASE continue 3 **

**Secondly, I hope you still like it. I'm very afraid that it goes downhill from here aahaha, as 'The Writer Girl CC' once told me, people want to read the lead up not the actual event. I'm paraphrasing, but you know what I mean. So keep letting me know if you like it :) **

**Thirdly, thank you again. I so love this story and there's only a few chapters left I'm afraid... :( **

**Lastly, enjoy!xx**

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><p>They began meeting up on a weekly basis for sex. It was their new Friday night ritual, come home from a hard day's work, order a Chinese and have sex.<p>

But soon their weekly ritual became bi-weekly and Sebastian began turning up at her apartment for Pizza Wednesdays.

Shortly after he brought in Beer Mondays, and then he began turning up at random hours.

He would burst through the door, leave the food in her kitchen and propel her towards the bedroom. Sometimes they didn't even make it that far and he had taken her right there – on the floor, on the worktop, upright in the living room. He pushed her sweaty hair from her face, and kissed her desperately, clutching her face in his palms.

"Ohh, San!" He moaned urgently.

She knew she had him under her thumb and could control him at an instant. He was the snake and she was the charmer, humming her mysterious tune as he coiled and writhed to her music.

Sebastian didn't understand; he couldn't understand what was happening. All he knew was that every day and every night he thought about Santana Lopez – she was his _quotidien _- and the way her hot skin would touch his, sending a fire coursing through his veins. He felt alive again with her around him, kissing him, caressing him and wanting him.

His life had been dull and blunt without her fervour and her spirit surrounding him. He didn't know how he had passed each day in court before without knowing he would be seeing the beautiful Latina that night.

Had he really been satisfied with picking up random guys in bars and being left feeling empty inside? These days he even invited Santana over to his apartment, something he very rarely did with people unless he was sure they'd be gone before the sun had risen. And yet, here she was, allowed in his apartment, permitted to wear his Ohio Buckeyes sweater and shorts and making it seem like her second home.

And he felt just as comfortable every time he marched through her door and kissed her fiercely, by way of greeting. He began undressing her so rapidly, it got to the point where most days she would just answer the door in her underwear and this was normal procedure.

Yet, Santana couldn't help feeling, as she lay in her sheets watching Sebastian's bare chest rise and fall in sleep after a long night of action, that emptiness creeping back in. She stared up at the ceiling, her eyes making patterns in the grooves, tiring as she strained to sleep. But something was keeping her awake. And in the back of her mind, she knew that it was the empty feeling diffusing into her veins that she thought she might have shaken off when she had invited him back into her life.

She rolled onto her side and watched Sebastian as he slept. He dreamt peacefully, inhaling and exhaling, without any of the cares that were haunting her brain. Slowly, silently, she reached up and ran a soft hand through his wavy, thick hair allowing the tendrils to catch on her fingers. She gently tickled the baby hairs on the nape of his neck and without warning Sebastian jerked in his bed. Santana drew her hand back sharply and searched his face to see if he was going to stir.

He didn't wake. Instead, a small, tender smile crept onto his face and he snuffled calmly. Santana softened and affectionately stroked the curve of his jaw and rolled back to stare up at the ceiling again. Sebastian was happy in his routine, and at peace. She wasn't going to be the one to get in the way of that. She needed to escape his toxicity and let him go. She considered the ceiling once more, glanced over at him breathing heavily, smiling softly, and she shut her eyes.

He had felt it; the touch on his face. His eyes fluttered open and he was faced with the sight of Santana sleeping peacefully. It couldn't have been her then that had touched him, it must have been a breeze, drifting in through the window. _She _was asleep in tranquillity; _she _wasn't plagued with dreams where he could hold her happily in his arms and not have a doubt or a judgement thrown at him. She was at peace with how things were, and he, he was not. He rolled with his back to her and stared at the wall, straining his eyes to stay awake.

If he fell asleep again, he'd just have another dream where she wasn't his and she was with Brittany instead of him. And that would be a nightmare to him. It made him feel sick inside. He had to stay awake… he couldn't…

His eyes drifted shut again.

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In the morning, Santana continued acting normally, unable to face speaking to him properly, in fear of something she didn't want blurting out. She went about her business as normal, and fixed him some breakfast. She wandered into the bedroom where he was still asleep, his hair mussed up and his chest rising and falling. She poked him in the side and he sat up with a start, rubbing his eyes and pushing his waves out his face.

"Here," Santana said, "I made you breakfast."

She handed him the plate sullenly and went for a shower.

Sebastian contemplated joining her, like he had those few short months ago. Had it really been months ago? It felt like Santana had never been out of his life, she had slotted in so easily. She reappeared before he'd even had a chance to undress, tousling her thick hair, carrying her handbag and wrapping a scarf around her neck.

"I'm gonna go," Santana sighed, pulling her hair out from under the pashmina.

"Wait, wait, why, where are you going?" Sebastian asked, standing up and crossing over to her.

"Home." She stated and made to leave.

"Why are you going so quickly San?" asked Sebastian, narrowing his eyes. She was sharp, frosty and unlike herself.

"I'm just bored." Santana said, shrugging.

"We could… um, go for a walk?" suggested Sebastian, wrinkling his nose confusedly.

"No, Seb," She sighed heavily, "I'm bored with us, with this. We're spending almost every day together and it's just… nothing."

"Do you really think it's nothing Santana?" Sebastian questioned her, raising his eyebrows. "Do you think it's nothing, that you're here, in my apartment after so many years apart? Do you think it's nothing that we met on that day, in that split second? Do you think it's nothing that I, I" He swallowed heavily, "I've never felt like this about anyone. You changed me completely, in that moment when I first heard your beautiful voice singing against mine. I didn't actually think it was possible to have feelings like the ones that were rushing through me. I was so, so proud of you that day at Regionals, and I saw you looking at me, I saw you smiling back at me. But I knew I'd never have a chance with you. Because you were the angel and I was the devil."

"Seb, by now you surely know that I'm no angel."

"You are to me." He said, and he paced forward and grabbed her brusquely by her upper arms. "Please don't leave San. Just, just stay. Because this, _this, _is not nothing."

"I don't believe you," She sighed weakly, and shifted her bag onto her shoulder.

"Don't walk away from me Santana. Not like everyone else. Please. You're the only thing that's real for me. Everything else is just lines and dots, and you connect them together. Please." He begged her one last time but even he could see her eyes filling with tears and the constriction in her throat.

"I… I can't." She choked out and she turned to leave.

He watched sadly from the hallway as she opened the door, glanced once more over her shoulder and walked away from him.

Only in his boxers, he sank to the floor, feeling lonelier and emptier than ever. He knew he should've stuck to boys that didn't break his heart, only his bed on occasion. He knew he should've resisted feeling this way. But he couldn't help it. This feeling had been plaguing him for years now; like a latent, purring monster it had been there, and that morning many months ago had re-awoken it more fiercely than ever.

There was a knock on the door.

He lifted himself and paced slowly over to it.

He inhaled sharply and opened the door. She was there, leaning with her back against the doorframe and her arms held protectively around her stomach. She gazed sadly up at him, her eyes full of concern and slight tears.

He looked down at her, trying to decipher what that look meant. Carefully, hesitantly, he took a risk.

He leaned down and kissed her gently on the mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut and she kissed him back, equally tentatively. He raised his hand to cup her cheek and pressed his lips to hers more desperately.

After a few short moments, joined by their lips, he broke away and searched her face for a sign.

She sighed heavily and whispered up at him:

"Seb, I'm scared."

He finally recognised the look on her face: fear. Fear of the future, their future and whatever bumps might come their way.

"Me too," He replied honestly, "But I'm willing to face the fear with you. Because if you just hold this," He held his hand out to her, and she took it nervously, "I know I'll be okay."

She gripped his hand more tightly, holding it as if it were her life support. He smiled at her and led her back into his apartment, with her smiling weakly back up at him.

"Come on," He said, moving into the bedroom and pulling his jeans on, "I'll take you out for lunch. That's what normal couples do, right?"

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><p><strong>Hope you liked! Don't forget to review! <strong>


	9. I

**A/N: I do not own Glee, Sebastian or Santana. Anyone else you might come across is miine! **

**This is the real moment where I worry it goes downhill, now they're actually together, so it's more important than EVER that you review PLEASE. PLEASE. **

**Aside from that, please enjoy. And if you're a Sebtana fan, in the next few days I will be posting a oneshot I've been shifting around in my brain for a bit. So look out for that too! **

**Chapter 9 (I):**

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><p>Sebastian massaged her shoulders, pumping her up for what was about to take place.<p>

"Come on," He roused her enthusiastically, "It's going to be fine."

They had started seeing each other less than they were used to, to try and instil some normalcy into the relationship. Sebastian was determined to make it unlike any other relationship he had been in and that started with not spending every evening having sex and staying over. He wanted it to be more than a sexual relationship, he wanted something more real. He had tried to instigate more and more 'normal' activities into their daily lives as a couple.

These included: a lunch date – in which he had almost slapped the very same maître d' for hitting on her _again_; a walk in the park – in which Santana had introduced him to the pleasure of feeding the ducks, and he had given up halfway through and eaten half the loaf himself; a Yankees game – in which Santana had unintentionally revealed her competitive side half way through, though Sebastian maintained that he'd always known it was within her, since high school and their so-called 'duel'; and a trip to the movies – in which they had broken their rules of normalcy and had sex in the back row. It was a rubbish film anyway.

Today, it was Santana's turn to meet some of Sebastian's friends. She sighed and rolled her eyes as Sebastian smiled optimistically.

"Come on," He said, "Give me that smile."

Santana rolled her eyes again, and flashed him a sarcastic grin.

"We'll work on it." Sebastian laughed and put an arm round her shoulders steering her into the room.

A group of men and one woman were sat talking as Santana and Sebastian entered. The chatter died down and Sebastian presented his girlfriend.

"Guys, this is Santana," His eyes smiled widely as he squeezed her shoulder tenderly and glanced at her encouragingly, "San, this is" He pointed them out as he said their names, "James, Blake, Robert and that's Casey, Robert's girlfriend."

The men returned her weak smile reassuringly, standing to shake her hand. Casey stood and brought Santana into a tight hug. She froze, unsure of what to do, choosing to pat Casey awkwardly on the back. She didn't really know what do with girls, surprisingly for a lesbian, she'd never really been close to them. Even in the Cheerios, she'd kept to Quinn and Brittany, but in a bitchy set-up like that, there had never been warmth or true familiarity.

She drew back from Casey and smiled graciously, though she was sure the look she was actually portraying was the falsest she'd ever used.

Sebastian confirmed this by laughing and saying, "Santana's a bit… closed off, when you first meet her. It takes a while for her to open up."

"So how _did_ you guys meet?" asked Robert, sitting down and taking Casey's hand in his.

Sebastian chuckled to himself again and glanced over at Santana. She began to smile the first real smile she'd shown all day.

"You might find this hard to believe, but we didn't exactly get on at first." Sebastian snickered and nudged Santana.

"What?" asked Casey, looking genuinely confused, "I find it hard that anyone would be unable to get on with you Seb?"

Santana actually snorted at this point and spoke for the first time, "Well Casey, the Sebastian you know is probably very different to the real deal."

"And you know the real Sebastian?" James asked interestedly.

"Oh yeah, that's for sure." Santana smiled and leaned towards James to continue the conversation. "When we met, Sebastian was… for lack of a better word _un pendejo_… loosely translated as a douchebag." She smiled again a little sarcastically, and enjoyed as Casey shifted uncomfortably towards Robert. "Right honey?" Santana smirked at Sebastian.

He laughed unashamedly and nodded, "She's right. She really is. I was an ass in high school."

"High school?" asked Robert, "Wow… that's been a long time."

"We only recently, in the last six months, met up again. I hadn't actually seen San since our senior year."

"I still to this day don't actually know where you disappeared to after Regionals," Santana mused, somewhat distractedly, gazing up at her boyfriend.

"Not the time, or place San." Sebastian murmured and pressed on with the conversation. "In reality, we're just two people who met on the streets of New York."

"When this _culo _spilt coffee all down my beautiful chiffon blouse."

"And if I remember rightly, bought you a new blouse instead." Sebastian pointed out, countering Santana's piercing cutting criticism.

She softened and nodded in agreement. "True, very true."

"What about you guys though?" Santana asked, opening up slightly. "Where did you meet Andrew McCarthy over here?" She nudged Sebastian, familiarising herself with her old nickname for him.

The men narrowed their eyes but passed over their confusion.

"Well, er, I met Sebastian at work. We're in the same courts most of the time. And our friendship started there really." James smiled and Santana nodded attentively .

"Me too, more or less," Robert continued, "I'm a psychologist. I come in a lot to psychoanalyse the parents, the children to see the effects a situation might have on them."

"Blake?" Santana turned to him.

He had not said much, the whole conversation, simply sat there and watched the couple and the afternoon unfold. He seemed distracted by something, gazing into the distance, past Santana.

"Blake?" She repeated, looking over at Sebastian for confirmation.

He roused himself and brought himself back to the discussion. "Sorry, right, yes. I, I met Seb in college. So I guess, except you Santana, I've known him the longest. It's also possible I know him as well as you do. I suppose I saw quite a bit of the _real _Sebastian too, if you know what I mean?" He winked knowingly at Sebastian, who shifted a little as he seemed to recognise that this was a true fact.

"In fact," Blake pressed on, now fully focused on the conversation. "You never told me that you weren't gay anymore Sebastian?"

He cocked his head to one side, and Santana saw a familiar smirk cross his face. It was a Sebastian smirk, the one he used when he was about to crush you. But she knew her boy - she knew Sebastian would be able to crush this nothing.

But he didn't.

Instead, he stammered out a few words nervously.

"A-actually Blake, I, I told you I was bi, in college, I told you."

He swallowed, seeming desperate for Blake's approval.

This was not her Sebastian. Santana was confused and disappointed at his behaviour. What hold did Blake have over Sebastian?

The air around them froze and Casey shifted uncomfortably, her rabbit-like eyes darting between Santana, Sebastian, Blake and Robert.

Santana frowned and looked at Sebastian.

He refused to meet her eyes, gazing at the carpeted floor.

Santana was beginning to wish she'd never asked how they'd met, never come here, never got into this relationship. Apparently she didn't know Sebastian as well as she thought she did.

"I think we're going to go." She stood up and hoisted her handbag onto her shoulder. "Sebastian?" She glanced down at him and he coughed awkwardly, standing up and smoothing his trousers down.

"Yes, yeah, we should, we should go." He smiled at his friends, not looking at Blake and left the room.

"'Bye," Santana said, kissing Casey clumsily on the cheek, then repeating it with Robert and James. She echoed Sebastian's actions, refusing to acknowledge the man who had changed him so quickly.

She left the room swiftly and found Sebastian stepping from side to side, uncomfortably in the hallway.

"What was that?" She asked as she let herself out the house, followed by Sebastian.

"Nothing… nothing, I'll tell you later." Sebastian murmured, taking her hand in his, "I'll tell you later. Let's just get out of here."

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><p><strong>Review as always! Besos xxx<strong>


	10. J

**A/N: I do not own Glee or Santana or Sebastian. But I do own this story and parts of their story.**

**I know I've not posted for ages, but I've left you on tenterhooks, right? Right? **

**Aaand, I've kind of been drafting a new Sebtana fiiic, but it's not quite ready for presentation yet. **

**This story only has a few more chapters left and I've loved every minute of it. **

**Quite a short chapter here for you, but it has a lot of content. So I hope you enjoy :) **

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><p>She let them into her apartment, dropped her handbag on the island and went to make a drink in the kitchen. Sebastian sighed heavily and sank onto the sofa and rubbed a hand over his eyes.<p>

Santana returned with a mug of coffee in one hand and a beer in the other. She held them both out to him, biting her lip with a hopeful half-smile. Sebastian softened and graciously took the beer, swigging straight from the bottle.

Santana joined him on the sofa, tucking one leg underneath herself, sipping the coffee. After a few moments silence she murmured,

"Are you going to tell me what happened back there?"

Sebastian exhaled deeply again and took another swill from the bottle. "It's hard to explain. We were together in college for a bit. It was quite a toxic relationship really. We survived on a vicarious relationship: it was always about sex and getting one over on the other. I think we had more threesomes than time spent with each other."

He swigged again from the bottle, pausing slightly in his story.

Santana took another sip of her coffee, eying him with intrigue.

"We broke up when it became too much. There was always cheating and viciousness and I wanted out. But Blake always seemed to have something over me. It was never that I still liked him – in some ways I think I never did – he just had that power that if you didn't play by his rules, he would turn spiteful spiteful and malicious and that was a side you never wanted to see."

"Is it just that then? So you're forced to be his friend because he's a nasty little bitch?" asked Santana, shifting her weight and putting her empty coffee mug down.

Sebastian shook his head and continued.

"I went back to Paris to try and get away from him. Threw myself into the complete alcohol fuelled debauchery there and ended up in a French prison under a false claim of prostitution. Apparently, my revealing clothes and suave stance were enough to have me carted off. It's punishable by up to six months in prison and I didn't know what to do so I called Blake. Dad was actually in Ohio at that point so I was living alone in his apartment and Blake was the only person I could call."

Sebastian drained the rest of the beer and placed the bottle on the floor beside him.

"He flew over and bailed me out and we managed to get them to drop the charges, once I explained that I was an American law student, uninterested in selling my body. But he never let it go. He still uses it today to manipulate me."

"Why can't you just tell him to go fuck himself?" Santana narrowed her eyes and put her head on one side.

"Because he could tell the courts. I didn't get a record, but it's still a criminal offence. I could lose my job."

Sebastian rubbed a hand over his eyes again and sighed through his palms.

"I hate him San, I hate him so much. But the thought of what he could do scares me so badly."

Santana crawled over to him and took his hands away from his face, kissing his mouth softly.

"It'll be okay Seb. You and me, we can get through this. It doesn't have to be a burden anymore. I'm glad you told me."

"I'm glad I told you too." Sebastian smiled for the first time and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him.

She lay down between his legs, resting her head on his chest. He enfolded her body in his thickset arms and kissed her in the roots of her dark hair.

After a few moments peaceful silence, he murmured into her locks.

"That's where I was y'know. After Regionals. Paris."

Santana sat up abruptly and turned to face him.

"What?"

Sebastian nodded and shrugged.

"I always seem to run off there when there's something I can't handle or something that scares me."

"What was scaring you then?" asked Santana warily

"My mother being pregnant with Alice. The fact that I had failed my team at Regionals. Dave's attempted suicide. You."

"Me?" She looked at him incredulously and he nodded again.

"You scared me so much. Because you made me feel a way that I wasn't supposed to feel about girls. I had convinced myself I was gay but from that moment I knew I was bi, because you made me warm inside. I had always been so cold and closed off and you not only set me on fire physically and sexually, but emotionally I had all these feelings that frightened me because they were far more intense than anything I'd felt before, and even more terrifying terrifyingly they were for a girl."

"So you ran off to Paris?" asked Santana, a small smile creeping over her lips.

"Yup," Sebastian confirmed, his smile widening.

Santana laughed and shook her head. "That was a bit extreme."

"Well San, you know me, I don't do things by half. Bet big or go home. So I ran, because I bet too big."

"What made you come back?"

"Alice. She was born and I knew I couldn't stay in Paris anymore. I'd continued my studies abroad, so that wasn't an issue, but after the messed up childhood I'd had, I couldn't let another little person come into that life alone. So I came back. By the time I'd returned, everyone else had moved on and I could forget all about you. I transposed all my thoughts of you onto her."

Santana's eyes narrowed and she smiled softly, almost to herself.

"But you never really forgot did you?"

Sebastian met her eyes and shook his head slowly. "Nope."

"I know." She murmured quietly. "I know, because I never did."

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><p><strong>Hope you all liiiked! Let me know here -<strong>


	11. K

**A/N: I do not own Glee, Sebastian or Santana. **

**I feel like I've been AWOL lately and I have to apologise for that, I've had exams and school stuff to do so I'm sorry that I've not been keeping up. BUT. Here is the penultimate chapter of 'In That Moment'. **

**It's been a fun ride and I've loved every moment of this story... I'll be sad to let it go. But at the same time, onto pastures new. In a short time you may be seeing a NEW Sebtana fic from yours truly that I am currently working on. **

**Thank you for all your views and reviews (that rhymes) and can't wait to hear from you all again soon. **

**Chapter 11 (K):**

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><p>"Is this everyone?" asked Sebastian, looking around the huddle.<p>

It transpired that he had been part of a Baseball tournament in college that met annually to stir up their old rivalry. Sebastian had headed one of the teams and was in charge of assembling a group for the yearly ritual. The catch was that each team had to contain at least four girls.

This year, finally he had been able to get some girls prepared rather than finding them on the street, flirting with them and coercing them into playing with the promise of sex afterwards.

Santana had invited Lucy to come along and join her, Casey and Jessie – Casey's sister – in the team along with Robert, James, Blake, Seb and Jessie's boyfriend Alex. Thus far, Lucy had spent the majority of the morning smiling coyly at James and batting her eyelashes rather than the ball.

Santana nudged her to get her to focus on Sebastian's words.

"I think so." She confirmed and rubbed her hands, excitedly.

Though at first she had been hesitant to join Sebastian's team – partly because she didn't think she could cope with being nice to Casey for much longer, and mostly because every time she saw Blake (which had been three since that afternoon a couple of months back) she had to restrain herself from punching his smug face – the competitive side of herself had taken over and she couldn't wait to take on Sebastian's rivals.

"We're fielding first, I'm going to pitch, so everybody spread out and follow my instructions. Okay? Okay girls?" Sebastian looked over at the ladies.

Casey, Jessie and Lucy smiled and nodded. Santana rolled her eyes and sighed huffily.

"Yes, Santana?" Sebastian chortled, laughing to himself slightly.

"Just because I'm a different gender it doesn't make me a lower class citizen – ¿_quizas dices que soy chorra, no?_" She huffed angrily and crossed her arms across her chest.

"No Santana, I don't think you're stupid." Sebastian smirked, somewhat patronisingly, taking her face in his hands and kissing her brusquely on the mouth. Santana kept her mouth firmly shut and tried her hardest not to smile.

Blake rolled his eyes and curled his lip.

Sebastian had gotten so used to her Spanish outbursts by now he could translate them rapidly in his head, although he wasn't quite at the point of replying directly in her mother tongue. He had always had an affinity for languages, the French rolling off his tongue so easily when he'd lived there. Similarly, Santana could understand his French exclamations – which revealed themselves mostly during sex – but he wasn't as prone to expelling the European language so readily.

Robert coughed awkwardly, trying to salvage the conversation.

"Er, everybody ready?"

"Ready!" The team chorused back.

"Let's go!" screamed Santana, pulling her knee socks up and bounding off to her position.

Sebastian followed after her and smiled down at her.

"Are you wearing a McKinley High T-shirt?" He grinned, reading the lettering across her chest.

"Yup," smiled Santana, biting her lip coquettishly.

"I like it." Sebastian murmured throatily.

They gazed at each other fleetingly feeling the sticky heat between them increasing.

"Sebastian!" Blake's voice called out, breaking the moment and directing Sebastian's attention back to him.

"Right!" Sebastian shouted back sycophantically, his voice slipping sounding slightly desperate. "Coming Blake!"

Santana rolled her eyes again and shook her head.

The game began.

She had been to enough baseball games with Sebastian to half understand the rules. She wasn't really concentrating properly, preferring to spend her time plaiting her hair and seeing what shapes the clouds were making. She wasn't even quite sure what her role was in the team. It wasn't until Sebastian called her name and started waving his arms dramatically at her that she really registered what she was meant to be doing.

The ball was soaring towards her and he was yelling and motioning for her to catch it.

She held her arms up in the mitt and watched as the ball flew gracefully into her waiting glove.

"I caught it…" She murmured to herself confusedly, and she held the ball up for everyone to see. "I caught the ball!" She said dazedly.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Sebastian was screaming as he sprung enthusiastically over to her and lifted her in the air. As he lowered her to the ground, he noticed that she was still smiling a little bewilderedly.

"Honey, you caught the ball. That means you got the batter out."

"Oh!" Santana cried, realising what she had done. "Brill!"

"Are you going to concentrate a bit harder now San?" asked Sebastian, the corners of his mouth turning up.

"Mmmhhhm," Santana grinned feeling the sense of success flooding over her.

She could feel her competitiveness creeping in and asked, trying to sound nonchalant and calm:

"So, how else would I be able to catch someone out?"

Sebastian laughed again and answered, "You can tag someone out with the ball as they're running."

"I'm good at running." Santana muttered to him, proudly.

"I know you are." He nodded, smirking at her.

"Other than that," Sebastian sighed, "It's up to the batter not to foul."

"Okay," Santana nodded. "Let's play some BALL!" She called out loudly, shocking Sebastian slightly.

He chuckled and returned to his post, throwing the ball between his palms casually.

Play continued and Santana focused on the game before her, looking for any opportunity to catch someone out. Her long tanned legs far overpowered the girls on the opposing team and before long she had tagged all four of them and they were resigned to sitting on the bench.

Her new focus and motivation to spur on her ambition to win was to catch out one of the boys. A tall, black haired man was approaching the batting plate, a dark glint in his eye. He raised the bat and caught Sebastian's eye staring him down.

Sebastian tossed the ball between his hands and glared equally cruelly at the man before him. He leaned back and raised his arm behind him, gripping the ball tightly in his fist.

He spun it powerfully towards the man who knocked it back forcefully and aggressively, so viciously that it just missed Sebastian's cheek.

He could hear the ball whistling through the wind as it passed him. It was obvious that fair play was not the man's game.

Sebastian watched the ball fly by him and drop to the ground, thankful that he had escaped its attack. He turned back to the guy and frowned.

"Hey man? What's the deal?" He shook his head angrily and held his arms up.

Santana had seen the whole thing and was furious. That ball had very nearly disfigured Sebastian's face.

"Did you see that?" She roared at James, "That _cabrón _nearly took Sebastian's face out!"

She advanced towards the black haired man irately and lunged out towards him, ready to rip into him with her sharp, manicured talons.

Before she could reach him, however, she felt herself being lifted out of the air by Sebastian's thickset arms.

"Let me at him!" She snarled growled, struggling in Sebastian's grip, her legs flailing wildly. _"¡Hijo de puta!" _She spat, snarling at the man before her.

"Santana, Santana, Santana," Sebastian repeated trying to calm her down, but she only writhed writhed more fiercely.

"_¡Puta madre!" _She continued, the Spanish curses flowing freely from her mouth. "Let me go Sebastian, I think someone needs to be taught a lesson, Lima Heights style."

"Ahh, Lima Heights!" Sebastian murmured, recalling the threat from his youth. "Of course."

He did not seem to be fazed by her vicious outburst and competitive aggression. Then again, he had known this Santana more than he had known her sweet and loving self. He still refused to put her down, choosing instead to continue whispering in her ear as she thrashed thrashed around in his grip.

"You know," He purred, "I think I quite like this. Reminds me of the feisty you I always loved. Competitive San is my favourite."

"Put me down, you _pendejo_." Santana snarled, but Sebastian could see she was smiling and softened in his hold.

She had even, thankfully, stopped kicking his thighs angrily.

He lowered her down slowly, making sure she wasn't going to dart off at any moment to attack the dark haired man, who looked, frankly, frightened out of his life.

Leisurely, calmly, Santana strolled over to him and looked him up and down as if he was nothing more than a piece of _mierda _on her shoe. She curled her lip and slapped him once across the face.

"That's how we do it in Lima Heights." She drawled, before turning on her heel and marching away, high-fiving her boyfriend as she did so.

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><p><strong>Don't forget to review! <strong>


	12. L is for Love

**A/N: I do not own Glee, Santana or Sebastian. **

**This is it then. The end. **

**Can't believe we're here. It doesn't make me happy, it makes me quite sad actually. I've become very attached to this story but I'm sure I will become equally attached to the next one. **

**Whilst we're on that topic, I see no harm in plugging said story. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, if you have liked what you've read, if you like my writing, if you like Sebtana, please take a look at 'The Show Must Go On'. Even if you _hate _it, just let me know so I can improve. Equally if you like it, read it with pleasure because in my head it's shaping up to be a good plot ;) whether it's well executed is your call. **

**Thank you so, so much for every read, every review and every alert. They make me smile so much and I can't even describe how thankful I am that you've chosen to read something I've written.**

**I'll let you get on with it and say goodbye, to you & 'In That Moment' - it's been fab.**

**NB: this chapter contains some uncomfortable themes. **

**xxxxxxx**

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><p>The half time whistle blew and Santana returned from her spot to the centre of the field where Sebastian was gathering the team in a huddle, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically and invigoratingly.<p>

"That was a nasty play guys," He was saying sourly, "Luckily, Santana dealt with it."

He glanced at her, grinning cheekily and she shrugged innocently. He pressed on.

"We can't let things like this happen again, channel all your competitive energy into beating them, through hard-core batting, alright?"

Although he was looking round the circle, Santana felt sure that particular instruction was meant directly for her. The group nodded; there were murmurs of 'alright'.

"Alright," Sebastian echoed, "Take five."

The huddle broke and he strolled over to Santana, "Thank you for fighting for me sweetheart."

She smiled unblushingly and said, "You know I always would."

"I know." He confirmed, beaming at her, his hand dancing up her arm.

"I'm going to go get a drink from inside." Santana told him, kissing the back of his hand resting on her shoulder and turned around to leave.

As she did so, he patted her bottom audaciously and sent her on her way. She looked over her shoulder, smiling at him sultrily. He winked back at her and watched as she strutted away to the make-shift cabins that held the bathrooms and a small kitchen.

She let herself in and went to get some water from the tap using an old mug on a shelf. She filled it and sipped it, watching as Sebastian flexed out on the field and practiced swinging a bat. She smiled almost subconsciously to herself.

Suddenly, a noise behind her made her start.

She twisted around cautiously and saw Blake making his way towards her.

"Oh, hi Blake," Santana greeted him, trying to keep her voice warm and free from the iciness she felt whenever he was near her.

"Santana," He replied quietly, running his eyes over her.

"Can I help you with something?" asked Santana, attempting an even tone.

"Actually, I think you can." Blake leered and he advanced towards her.

Santana did not even have time to process what was happen.

He trapped her between his warm body and the cold, metal sink, blocking her in with his palms gripping the surface either side of her tiny waist. He knocked the mug out of her hand onto the surface where it smashed, the sound reverberating around the small cabin. She could feel his hot, ragged breath escaping his mouth and settling on her skin making it prickle uncomfortably.

"What're you doing?" She asked nervously, her voice losing any calmness it had.

"You're quite a hot piece of ass Santana, did you know that?" Blake growled lasciviously, pressing himself to her.

She didn't reply, feeling sick in the pit of her stomach. She cringed as he stroked her cheek with his thick calloused finger.

"And the Sebastian I knew," He continued, drawling disgustingly. "Always liked to share."

He grinned, ogling her as if she were a piece of meat and sneering callously.

"I'm not really comfortable with that." Santana stated, trying to push him away, but he just gripped her more tightly, cupping her to him, his hands on her rear.

"Come on Santana," He crooned desperately, a certain whine in his voice. "No-one has to know. Not even Sebastian."

Blake pressed his mouth to hers and stuck his tongue aggressively inside. She pushed him away from her and cried,

"Get off me you little creep!"

But she could not escape; he had her firmly in his hold and was pressing himself to her again.

"_¡Ayudeme! _Help me!" She screamed, attempting to kick him and free herself. "Get off me! Somebody! Quick!"

He covered her mouth with his hand and pushed her, ramming her back into the metal sink. She was struggling to breathe, she couldn't get his hand away from her face and his other was coursing her body uncomfortably.

It reached up her McKinley High black t-shirt and rubbed against her stomach, creeping up towards her chest.

She writhed urgently in his grip as he kneaded her soft skin with his thick hands, desperate for the unpleasant pain to stop. His hand left her, leaving a cold, empty awfulness behind and it moved to his zip.

Santana flailed more wildly, attempting to push him away again, but he was stronger than her, compelling himself more persistently to her and beginning to restrict her airways as he continued to cover her mouth.

"Santana?"

She heard Sebastian's voice coming from the corridor outside and tried to call to him, but Blake's hot palm had supressed any hope she had of getting someone's attention.

"Santana?"

Sebastian called again and his echoing footsteps came closer.

Santana tried once more to push Blake away but he was fumbling more frenziedly with his trousers, his pupils dilating and darting frantically around the room.

Sebastian finally entered the room.

"San, are you-"

His words dropped as he registered the picture before him.

"You _bastard_." He muttered, advancing towards Blake and pulling him roughly away from Santana.

She breathed again, raggedly and doggedly, thankful for her freedom. She could still feel his hands on her body. She knelt to the floor and held her knees to her chest, exhaling deeply.

Sebastian punched Blake forcefully across the face.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He roared, pummelling the man furiously.

"Get off me Sebastian!" Blake cried, "What are _you _doing?" He replied, curling his bleeding, swollen lip. "Come on, you always loved sharing in college." He drawled lustily, "We could reignite some old memories."

"I don't want any memories of you anymore." Sebastian cursed loudly and hit Blake again.

"Hit me one more time Sebastian and I'll tell them about Paris." Blake threatened, standing up and moving towards the bronze haired man menacingly.

"Go ahead." Sebastian offered, holding his hands out willingly.

"Does your pretty little girlfriend know?" sneered Blake "Maybe she'd like to hear about your night in a French jail cell."

"She already knows." Sebastian smirked back at him.

"So she's aware she's dating a man-whore?" scoffed Blake, laughing derisively.

"Honey," coughed Santana from her position on the floor, "I've known he was a man-whore since I was 17."

Sebastian chuckled and shrugged at Blake.

"It's true."

"I can still tell the courts." Blake warned him, pointing aggressively at him.

"Do what you want Blake," Sebastian disparaged him, rolling his eyes, "After what you just did to Santana, I want nothing more to do with you."

"So you're choosing her?" asked Blake, curling his lip at the Latina crouched on the floor, watching the scene playing before her.

"Damn right I am. Now get the hell off this field and out of my life." Sebastian instructed and he hit Blake once more for good measure.

Santana watched in awe as Blake cursed loudly and trailed sheepishly from the room. Once he was gone, Sebastian turned round to her.

_This _was the Sebastian she had known and the one she had always known, since that duel in high-school. The calm, cool, strong and sexy Sebastian - she had probably fallen in love with him that very day, when the last string on the cellos had been plucked and their eyes had locked.

He knelt down in front of her and moved a dark hair out of her eye.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded silently and swallowed.

He could see her eyes swimming with tears but he wouldn't let her cry. His Santana, feisty and gutsy, wouldn't want to cry at something like this.

"Thank you," Santana choked out eventually.

Sebastian stroked her cheek gently, took her face in his hands and kissed her softly, murmuring into her lips, "It's okay."

He sat down beside her, resting his back against the cabinets behind them.

She put her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her.

After sometime of peaceful silence, he whispered into her hair:

"I love you Santana."

She was not surprised. She knew he did – just the way she loved him; this encounter with Blake had just been a catalyst on his journey to expressing it. She knew it would have been hard for him to come up with the words otherwise. She herself had never been good with articulating that kind of emotion with vocabulary – not even with Brittany whom she always considered her first love.

She had never thought about the fact that she had probably loved someone else at the same time she had fallen in love with Britt; and that was the boy sat right beside her, after all these years.

"I love you too Sebastian."

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><p><strong>FIN. <strong>


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